Drunken Wishes, Sober Thoughts
by bergerbites
Summary: "And while the flirtatious – and sometimes downright smoldering looks – she gives him make him all too aware of the heavy thud of his heart in his chest, the steady pulse of blood through his veins; the sensation is far from unpleasant." Levi x Petra


Winter caught him off guard this year and Levi scowls, shivering as he stuffs his hands deeper within the pockets of his jacket. He almost wishes he allowed himself more than the occasional drink because the frankly alarming amount of Vine Petra consumed seems to have numbed her from the cold.

Levi watches as she twirls around a lamppost and tries to muster up the proper amount of annoyance. He can't and his scowl deepens. If anything, he's impressed at her tolerance. She out-drank quite a few soldiers – Gunther and Oluo included – and she seems more tipsy than drunk. It could be worse. She hasn't started sobbing for no reason or vomited all over his shoes. He can handle the constant giggling and the random, almost childish observations. And while the flirtatious – and sometimes downright smoldering looks – she gives him make him all too aware of the heavy thud of his heart in his chest, the steady pulse of blood through his veins; the sensation is far from unpleasant.

"Petra."

She stops twirling and turns to face him, tucking a strand of copper hair behind her ear with a sheepish giggle. The movement causes the over-sized sweater she's wearing to slip off her shoulder and his gaze lingers at the creamy, freckled skin that's exposed. He shakes his head, blaming his distraction on the fact it's been a while since he's gotten laid.

He lets out a heavy sigh. "Where the hell's your coat?"

Petra feigns innocence, but he catches a flicker of mischief in her amber eyes. "I'm not sure," she answers. Then she bites her lip, her eyelids lowering ever-so-slightly, and slips her sweater back into place.

A hot flush starts crawling up his neck and he tugs at his scarf self-consciously. "We need to get you back to HQ before you do something stupid," he mutters. "Well…stupider than getting wasted in the first place."

Her eyes curve into crescents of amusement and she giggles, the bright sound cutting through the quiet night like a blade. She crosses her arms, tucking her hands under her armpits, and shivers. "It's a little chilly outside, huh?"

"No shit," Levi snaps. A little chilly is an understatement if he's ever heard one. He hates the cold, spent too many winters without proper clothing or shelter, and he ignores the malicious part of him that thinks she should suffer the consequences of her drunken idiocy. "You owe me for this," he says, slipping his jacket off and stepping towards her.

"What?" Petra looks alarmed, all of her good cheer disappearing within an instant. "No! Levi, I'm fine. Keep your jacket. Please."

His eyebrow quirks at the familiar way she says his name, even though he's never heard her address him with anything other than his rank. He decides against reprimanding her for it for reasons he doesn't feel like dwelling on. "Just take it," Levi sighs, shoving the jacket towards her. "Don't make me pull rank."

Petra hesitates before taking the jacket from his outstretched hand. She holds his gaze as she slips her arms through. "Thank you," she murmurs. He nods, trying not to shiver too obviously and ducking his head deeper within the thick scarf he has wrapped around her neck so she can't hear his teeth chattering.

The two of them walk down the cobblestone path in a comfortable silence. She stumbles from time to time, tripping over her own feet, but she manages to maintain her balance without his intervention. Levi keeps a close eye on her regardless.

All of a sudden, she slows down for a second, swaying a little on her feet. "I'm sorry, Captain. I'm probably making a fool of myself."

Levi smirks and doesn't answer that question. "So now I'm Captain again?" "Beg pardon?" she asks, tilting her head to the side and batting her eyelashes at him. "You called me by my first name a few minutes ago," Levi explains, speaking very slowly as though he were addressing a child. "Now I'm Captain again."

Petra giggles and averts her gaze, a pretty flush on her cheeks. "Well…," she trails off and gives a little self-deprecating laugh. "What would you prefer I call you?"

Levi finds himself at a loss and feels a little guilty for encouraging the flirtation. He tries to think of what Erwin would do in a situation like this. He trusts Erwin, admires his strategic mind and the sheer strength of the man's stubbornness, but there's a voice niggling in the back of his mind that tells him he doesn't want to end up like the ruthless Commander. Levi's all too aware of his own humanity and no matter how hard he tries, he cannot escape it. So he doesn't try.

"Come on," he decides it's safer just to ignore the question. His thoughts are all over the place and he needs to sort through them. And Petra, with her melting eyes and soft smiles, keeps distracting him. "It's fucking freezing."

"Here," Petra tentatively wraps her arm around his waist, pressing her body against his. He tenses, limbs going limp and she takes his hand, carefully placing it on her opposite hip so his arm's under the jacket. "Better?" she asks, her breath puffing out in a cloud smelling faintly of Vine.

Levi shudders, but not from the cold. For all Erwin preaches about camaraderie and togetherness, even simple touches are somewhat of a rarity among soldiers. He swallows thickly because he does feel a lot warmer, his blood becoming heavy and hot. "It's fine," he mutters.

The two of them continue walking. Petra seems to have sobered, her steps are steadier, a faraway look in her eyes. "Do you ever get lonely, Levi?" she asks all of a sudden.

Levi tenses. "What the fuck kind of question is that?"

"Just curious," Petra says, but she sounds like she's speaking from someplace faraway.

He's not an idiot so he doesn't answer. "We're almost there," he states, hoping she picks up on the implied what the hell has gotten into you?

She halts all of a sudden, throwing him slightly off balance. He pulls away, concerned she's about to get sick, but when he looks at her, he sees she looks more focused than she has all night.

And then, as if the night isn't fucked up enough already, she blurts, "I'm in love with you."

Time seems to stop right then and there. Levi's mind stutters and stops and he just stares, hoping he's hearing things. But there's a small part of him, long buried, that's desperate to hear her say it again.

"There I said it," she says and it's ridiculous because she sounds angry, as though she's as frustrated and confused by the whole thing as he is. "I'm sorry."

Levi shakes his head, a bitter laugh bubbling up his throat like bile. "You don't know what you're saying," he sneers. "This is just the booze talking." "Don't you dare laugh at me!" she says, her voice taking on the hard edge it gets whenever she loses her temper but there's a slight waver, like the anger is just a cover.

"Listen," Levi runs a hand through his hair. "You're not the first subordinate to have a crush on a superior officer. This sort of shit happens all the time," he hesitates because Petra glares at him, her eyes shining like flat coins in the poor lighting. "It's not appropriate."

"The way you look at me is hardly appropriate, Captain."

Levi scowls. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Petra advances towards him and he steps backwards, eyeing her warily. "I think you do," she states.

She opens her mouth to say something else but she trips over a loose stone, crashing into him. He stumbles backwards until his back hits a wall. All of Petra's weight crashes against his chest and the air rushes from his lungs.

He grabs her shoulders, pushing her back and glaring down at her. "I told you not to do anything stupid," he growls.

Instead of answering, she leans forward, pressing her mouth against his. He feels the soft brush of her tongue against his bottom lip and opens his mouth to her without thinking about it. Her lips are soft, her kisses softer, and he stands there, torn between pushing her away and pulling her closer. When she pulls back for breath, whatever restraint he had left shatters.

He lets go of her shoulders, reaching up to cup her face in his hands, and she gasps in surprise before his lips crash into hers. His kisses, unlike hers, are rougher, almost punishing in their intensity. Petra doesn't back down, her nails scraping up his chest through the fabric of his shirt. He grunts, pulling back when one of her hands reaches for his, her fingers wrapping around one of his wrists. She kisses down his throat, lingering at the hollow of it, and places his hand on her breast. Levi's eyes widen and he feels himself hardening at the smell and taste of her combined with the sweet stench of alcohol, the feeling of her breast under his palm.

It's too much. It's not enough. He shakes his head and pushes her backward. "No," he states, hating how breathless his voice sounds. There are too many reasons why they shouldn't do this. He's more than ten years older, she's intoxicated, and he can't afford the distraction. He owes it to everyone – especially to her – to remain objective and focused. He forces himself to look at her wounded expression. "Don't make this difficult," he adds and it sounds like a plea.

Wordlessly, she takes several steps backward and gives him one last lingering look, almost apologetic, before she turns around. He watches her retreating form; the sudden loss of her warmth makes the cold seem unbearable by comparison.


End file.
